


carry me home

by hyuckyang



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (It's Only Mentioned In Passing), Alternate Universe - Prison, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Happy Ending, Honestly There's A Lot Of Fluff, M/M, Past Domestic Violence, Semi-Public Sex, The Tags Makes It Seem More Intese Than It Actually Is.. I Promise, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-23 05:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18147470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyuckyang/pseuds/hyuckyang
Summary: ''Why should I trust you?'' Doyoung asks suspiciously.“What do you have to lose? You are already in the worst place anyone could ever possibly be in. It wouldn’t hurt to make a friend,” the man takes a deep breath. “I’m Jaehyun.”Doyoung repeats his name quietly, mostly to himself. It tastes sweet on his tongue, thick like honey. He likes it. Jaehyun might be right - there was nothing to lose anyway. “Doyoung.”





	carry me home

**Author's Note:**

> just broke my dreamies-only streak

One thing movies got right about prisons is that they are just as hectic in real life.

 

Doyoung mutters quietly under his breath a reminder to himself to never lift his eyes off the ground. Even if someone addresses him, hell even if they try to reach him with their dirty little fingers he promises not to react to them. He knows there’s a barrier between them in the form of barred doors, yet he can’t suppress the shiver that travels through his spine as he walks past them.

 

He can feel their eyes on him, trying to unfold the layers of his identity just by taking in his posture. They try to get an insight on him from the way he walks, the way he reacts to the incoherent yells from the cells all around him, and most importantly, if he is a threat or not.

 

After all, isn’t this what prison is all about? Accepting the position provided to you in the burdening hierarchy created by the inmates? Doyoung can only dream of being at least in the middle part of it.

 

“Here’s your cell,” Officer Seo abruptly stops in front of one of the cells on the fifth and final floor. It’s a cell at the end of the hallway with only one singular bed, unlike the others that had either a bunk bed or two aligned next to each other.

 

“Am I sleeping alone?” Doyoung dares to ask as he watches the officer unlock one of the two locks on the metal door.

 

“Consider this your lucky day, pal,” the officer snorts at his joke, before pushing Doyoung into the practically naked room. He doesn’t spare him another glance before turning around and leaving him all alone.  

 

The cell is one of the finer ones, Doyoung supposes. He has a working toilet, a small desk on the corner facing the cement wall, and finally a metal bed with a thin mattress on top. No blanket or a pillow.

 

He wouldn’t dare to ask for such luxury.

 

With careful steps, he decides to sit down on the bed to try it out. It feels exactly how he had imagined it, like stones digging right into his body. Despite the uncomfortableness, he tries to shift around until he is laying down on the mattress, eyes set on the ceiling above him.

 

The shade is so ugly. If he were to describe it, he would say that the shade almost resembled the color stones would get after a day of heavy rain. There is no windows, no painting or any object that would contrast against the suffocating walls, just an endless disgusting grey.

 

He doesn’t know how long he stares at the wall beside him. It could have gone days, hours or more realistically minutes. The thought that this was gonna be his life for the next two years was enough to make tears sting in his eyes.

 

Memories of his mother’s disappointed face mixed with his brother's venom eyes were enough to drive him over the edge. He curls into himself as he remembers their final words spoken to him; _you are the only one to blame for this._

 

“Shut the fuck up, bitch. I can fucking hear you,” a loud voice growls against his walls. He knows that he is alone in his cell, but it had been so prominently present as if the person had been right there next to him. His own shaking hand covers his mouth in order to muffle whatever noise that was threatening to spill out.

 

He falls asleep that night with tears clouding his vision.

 

 

“You’re new here,” a deep voice next to him notes. Doyoung opens his eyes in surprise and cringes slightly at the exposure from the bright rays of sun invading his sight all of a sudden. When his eyes calm enough, he turns his head towards the source of the voice.

 

“I am,” Doyoung confirms with a nod. His own voice sounds weird in his ears since he hasn’t been using it at all for the past two days.

 

The man beside him couldn’t be a day older than him. His facial features radiate softness — a certain softness that should never be exposed to this sort of place. His eyes are a warm shade of brown that reflect delicately against the morning sun. But that isn’t what had grasped his attention, no - it’s the pure dimples on his flushed cheeks that pull him in.

 

He is so utterly beautiful, and for a heartbeat, Doyoung wonders if perhaps this is all a dream he had formed in desperation to find something to lean on in this foul place.

 

“I’d say welcome but I don’t think this is really a place anyone would want to be welcomed to,” the owner of the deepest dimples Doyoung has ever seen speaks.

 

“What’s your name?” he asks when Doyoung doesn’t answer him for a while too long.

 

Doyoung furrows his eyebrows. “Why?”

 

“Do I really need a reason to know your name?” the man snickers in a way that almost makes him feel like he is being made fun of. The man doesn’t belong here, not when his laughter is by far the most beautiful thing Doyoung has heard ever since he walked inside this hell hole.

 

“Why should I trust you?” Doyoung asks suspiciously. He knows people are out for blood here. Most of them were bored thugs and savages that just waited for the right moment to attack the lesser person. Doyoung refuses to let that be him.

 

“What do you have to lose? You are already in the worst place anyone could ever possibly be in. It wouldn’t hurt you to make a friend,” the man takes a deep breath. “I’m Jaehyun.”

 

Doyoung repeats his name quietly, mostly for himself. It tastes sweet on his tongue, thick like honey. He likes it. Jaehyun might be right - there was nothing to lose anyway. “Doyoung.”

 

Jaehyun takes his sweet time to process his name as if it was some sort of riddle he was trying to solve. Doyoung lets him have at it.

 

The silence gets eerily too long for Doyoung’s liking quiet fast. It isn’t that he doesn’t enjoy silence - no, it’s the fact that he knows Jaehyun is doing that thing that Doyoung had grown to detest. He can tell by his focused eyes that he is trying to unravel the wall Doyoung has built around himself. To try to sneak his way inside his brain to try to understand him somehow.

 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when Doyoung abruptly stands up and leaves without a single word spoken.

 

 

All the inmates get to be out in the yard for three hours each day. During the odd days, it would fall after breakfast. During the even days, it would fall between the hours of lunch and dinner.

 

Doyoung has come to analyze the hierarchy levels inside of the prison rather quickly. Those on top of the pyramid, that walk with their chests held up high and confident smirks usually gather around the rustic work out gear provided to them. Most of the gear is hanging on its last threads, but they make due. Those in the middle, that aren’t as beefy nor as intimidating, but still get respect often hang around the basketball court or sit on the bleachers. Doyoung sometimes listens to their loud voices, everybody probably is because it’s the only real source of entertainment they could get. For those short hours they get of restricted freedom, that group of people allows them to follow their stories from back in the days where there weren’t chains wrapped around their ankles.

 

Then there’s those that Doyoung likes to call invisible. Their place was near the corners of the walls, eyes hesitantly scanning the yard for any potential dangers. They never walked in a so-called pack, and if they did it wasn’t more than two or three people. It was so easy to ruin them, to break them in half because that is what this place eventually does to you. You either walk out as a survivor or stay long enough to deem yourself gone.

 

Doyoung doesn’t know where he falls on that scale. Maybe he is still too new to the whole ordeal to make any rash decisions.

 

‘’Hey beautiful.’’

 

Doyoung had seen him long before he had actually approached him. It’s hard not to with the way he has been lingering around him for the past thirty minutes. His gaze had been sticking to him like sweat after a long run, so him finally approaching Doyoung is honestly fine. At least he can tell him to fuck off right to his face and get it over with.

 

‘’No thank you,’’ Doyoung retaliates with a faux smile.

 

The man in front of him smirks, full on evil and all. ‘’Feisty, aren’t you?

 

‘’Only when needed to,’’ Doyoung never stops smiling, despite the fact that his stomach is twisting and turning inside his body.

 

‘’What’s your name, sweet thing?’’

 

It shouldn’t remind him of Jaehyun but it does. It’s the exact same question, but somehow Jaehyun’s voice had sounded so genuine, while this man was as sharp as a knife. Doyoung suppresses the urge to shiver. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the man or Jaehyun, or maybe even both.

 

Doyoung leaves his seat from the grass below him. He taps off the dirt from the bottom of his thighs before shrugging. ‘’Unimportant.”

 

The man bursts out in laughter as if he has cracked up the most hilarious joke one has ever heard. “I wonder if that fire mouth of yours will be just as hot around my dick, or who knows, maybe even hotter.”

 

“I don’t think you have to wonder much since it will never happen.”

 

Doyoung shouldn’t be offended, he figured that he would be the target of one of the sleazeballs in the vicinity. Most of them were hideous older men that were desperate enough to fuck anything that moved, yet the man standing in front of him was neither ugly or old.

 

Two hands grip his collar tightly. “Listen here, punk-“

 

“Having a bad day, Nakamoto?”  

 

The hands gripping him go slack for a moment, before eventually vanishing. Doyoung straightens up and turns to the familiar voice.

 

“Fuck off, Jung. He was mine first,” The man, Nakamoto Doyoung assumes, spits out, eyes still set solid on Doyoung. They burn with an even harsher intensity that contrast against the chilly summer breeze drifting around them.

 

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

 

Nakamoto clenches his jaw. “What did you just fucking say?”

 

“I said,” Jaehyun takes two strides forward until he is standing right between them to create a sort of barrier, “It doesn’t seem like he is all that interested.”

 

Doyoung could tell that Nakamoto is baffled by the way he opens and closes his mouth for a moment, before finally letting out a low scoff. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a step back, smirk still as prominent.

 

“I’ll see you around, sweet thing.”

 

Jaehyun turns to him the second they are alone. Doyoung can hear the guards announcing that there are fifteen minutes left until they have to go back to their cells, but Jaehyun doesn’t move so he doesn’t either.

 

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks.

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Doyoung grimaces. He knows Jaehyun could pick up on his sarcasm, so he doesn’t even bother to put on a smile. “I’ve met his type way before I came here.”

 

“Yuta has been here for more than half of his life,” Jaehyun explains. “Practically born in the system, poor thing really.”

 

Doyoung doesn’t know how that piece of information is in any way useful to him, but he nods nonetheless. He honest to god doesn’t have an answer, so Jaehyun just continues.

 

“Most people here are lost, Doyoung. Just like you, just like me. They do stupid shit, hell we all have but when it comes down to it, most of them are human beings. Mistakes exist, but they shouldn’t define,” he takes a short breath that sounds borderline painful. “This system, it tries to define us just by looking at our mistakes.”

 

“You cannot possibly think I’m gonna feel sorry for someone that just sexually harassed me,” Doyoung tries not to sound condescending, but fails miserably.

 

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Jaehyun sounds like he isn’t taking offense to Doyoung’s remarks, which lifts an uncomfortable weight off of his shoulders.  He even offers him a small smile. It doesn’t reach him all the way to his eyes, but at least it’s something. ”Just remember that in order to survive this hell hole, you have to create a character for yourself. Someone you can show to the world while the inside of you is breaking down. In Yuta’s case, it’s a disgusting creep sadly.”

 

 

Doyoung can’t stop thinking about Jaehyun’s words.

 

He doesn’t feel sorry for himself. It was useless. He knows well enough that he deserves every single thing that has happened to him. After his breakdown on his first night there, he had made sure to never let a single teardrop form in his tear duct for as long as he was here.

 

By his fifth day there, the inmates must have figured out that he was nothing worthwhile. Their curious gazes dimmed down to nonexistent, especially since a new patch of inmates had arrived early that same morning.

 

At this point, he should have probably figured out where he lies in the whole scale of things, but he ponders over the fact that he hasn’t even tried to make room for himself. He hasn’t left a mark, nor has he bothered enough to try to fit in with those in power. There has only been a handful of people he has spoken to, Jaehyun being the only one reoccurring.

 

Nakamoto, or Yuta as he has come to find out works in the same laundromat as Doyoung. Every day each inmate has to either attend school or work, and since Doyoung already has two PhD’s under his arms, the higher-ups decided to let him work. They were kind enough to let him pick between the laundromat or cleaning the toilets. He didn’t even have to think a second before picking his choice.

 

Jaehyun has been right about one thing - Yuta isn’t all too bad once you get to know him. He has a personality which one has to learn to get accustomed to, but the minute you do, his company isn’t that horrible. If Doyoung is being honest, he even finds himself enjoying it.

 

“You know Jaehyun never shuts up about you, right?” Yuta says while folding up the freshly washed pillowcases. His hands work too quickly for Doyoung, years of experience showing.

 

“What?” Doyoung asks, taken by surprise. He found out that they were cellmates a couple of days ago,  but he never knew he was a topic of discussion between them.

 

“All the fucking time dude,” Yuta halts his movements for a moment to give Doyoung one of his infamous smirks. “Sometimes I wonder if he has a schoolboy crush on you or something.”

 

“He doesn’t even know me,” Doyoung mutters and picks up a bag of dirty sheets to throw inside the laundry machine. He struggles for a bit until he finally manages to throw the entire content inside the waiting machine.  

 

“He says that you are different. Don’t ask me, he always acts all poetic and shit,” Yuta laughs shortly. His laughter trails away with the buzz coming from the machines around them.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Doyoung suddenly says. He leans against one of the walls opposite of Yuta in case his idea doesn’t go as planned.

 

“Ask away, babe.”

 

“What is he in for?” Doyoung whispers, ignoring the pet name.  

 

The question seems to throw Yuta off. His eyes dart around the room for a second before his shoulders defeatedly slump down. Doyoung is about to take back his question, but Yuta beats him to it. “It’s not my place to tell you that.”

 

Doyoung hums understandably. They go back to work with minimal conversation between them. They fold, unfold, wash and fold again for hours until the guards announce the end of their shift.

 

“Jaehyun is a good guy. Much better than anyone in here.”

 

It seems like every time Doyoung meets Jaehyun, he just becomes more and more ethereal. It’s almost like there’s a magnetic force that pulls Doyoung towards him even though he knows that he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t want him, he shouldn’t _crave_ him, but he does.

 

The curiousness surrounding Jaehyun never disappears, in fact, it only grows deeper and deeper which makes him all the more alluring. He shares a couple of things with Doyoung, mostly about his time inside these walls, but never outside of them. Two weeks inside the prison and all he knows is boring trivial shit. Oh, and the fact that beneath the next-door-neighbor act is something quite the polar opposite hidden.

 

He hears them before he sees them. It’s right after lunch time and most of the inmates had rushed out for some fresh air in the yard whilst Doyoung has decided to take a hot shower to try to unravel a knot in his back.

 

The showers should be empty, but then he hears it. The faintest sound of what he originally assumes is someone crying. The noises start to echo louder against the ceramic walls when he finally picks it up.

 

“Fuck,” a soft cry followed by a grunt.

 

Doyoung stills. He has two options; either to walk out of there as quickly as possible and go hang out with Yuta or stand here like a fucking pervert listening to strangers having sex. His decision should have come easily, but it doesn’t.

 

“You good?” _Slap._

 

Doyoung trembles against the wall closest to him and squeezes his eyes shut. This isn’t happening. This cannot be happening. Men usually sound alike, boring deep monotones isn’t a unique trait to have yet this one — this one was too particular.

 

A loud cry pulls Doyoung out of his thoughts. ” _Please_.”

 

The gasp he inhales is so sharp that he has to lock himself in one of the cubicles just to hide. He knows that whoever is in the closed cubicle at the end of the row has heard him, but something in him can’t seem to walk away. His sick mind wants to hear.

 

He wants to hear the broken moans and grunts mixed with the sound of skin slapping against wet skin. He needs to hear _that_   voice whisper out the words that line between the lines of praise and humiliation.

 

” _Jaehyun_ , I’m gonna fucking— _come_.”

 

The shudder that shoots down Doyoung’s body is one of the most confusing sensations he has ever experienced. One one end, his veins ignite in flames that trickle underneath his skin, but on the other hand, he feels just as shivering cold as one does in the coldest ice bath. Knowing that it’s Jaehyun shouldn’t make him feel so dizzy, but his lust overtakes his senses. The thought of Jaehyun just feet away from him, fucking some unknown punk is more than enough to stir his own dick fully awake.

 

“Come on baby, let whoever is in here get a nice earful of what my dick does to you.”

 

The moans grow louder and louder, to the point where Doyoung is positive that if someone were to walk by the washing room, they would pick up on the sound. Until finally one long drawn whimper erupts in the room before it goes deadly quiet.

 

The sound of the door to the cubicle comes shortly after, followed by feet walking against the wet floor until they decrease lower and lower before eventually vanishing.

 

At least Doyoung is alone when he pathetically spills all over his own hands not two minutes later.

 

 

”It’s been a while.”

 

Doyoung puts his chopsticks inside his empty bowl of rice to signal his attention. ‘ _A while_ ’ is most certainly an exaggeration.

 

”Three days isn’t exactly an eternity,” he snorts without humor.

 

Jaehyun cracks a lopsided smile. ”It feels like it in here,” he shrugs.

 

Doyoung hums, careful not to lock eyes with the man that has invaded every single part of both his thoughts and dreams. He can feel the tension rising up inside of him, from the way his chest feels heavier to the way his blood feels warmer. He knows what Jaehyun did that day, yet somehow it doesn’t leave a sour taste in his mouth.

 

“How are you holding up?” Jaehyun asks. Of course, he does — sweet, caring Jaehyun with a personality that feels like delicate flower petals beneath his fingers.

 

“Alright, I suppose,” Doyoung says, eyes finally landing on Jaehyun’s. He curses the fact that his heart rate increases as if he was a teenage girl having a crush.

 

“Yuta says that you are adjusting great.”

 

And there it is once again.

 

“You know before I came here, I often thought of myself as a mediocre person —uninteresting as one would call it,” Doyoung leans back against his chair. “But I’m starting to think otherwise now since you and Yuta can’t seem to stop talking about me.”

 

Jaehyun laughs and Doyoung can’t help but wonder how someone could find humor in such a mundane thing. Between his laughter comes a low _hm_ in question. “What has Yuta told you?”

 

“Nothing much, he is too loyal for that.”

 

The sound of utensils crashing against the bowls mixed with chatter all around them feels like white noise. Doyoung isn’t opposed to it, in fact, he modestly enjoys the background noise. It was only when he arrived here that he fully understood just how lonely and quiet his life prior had been.

 

Doyoung wasn’t alone, he couldn’t be when he shared his 'home' with more than a thousand other inmates.  He wouldn’t call himself lonely either. He had Yuta, despite their clashing personalities and their differences, they managed to balance each other well. He also had Johnny, the guard that brought him in on his first day. They barely met each other, but when they did they often engaged in empty conversations to fill out time.

 

Then there’s Jaehyun. Jaehyun that reminded Doyoung of a maze.

 

Back when Doyoung was young, his father had bought him a game that consisted of a character stuck in a maze. The player had to find their way out with the help of clues by solving riddles that seemed too advanced for his barely developed mind. The game was fun, especially since Doyoung has had his competitive trait since birth and often won.

 

Jaehyun was much like that game in the sense that Doyoung had to solve mysteries to try to find clues about just who Jaehyun was. Every time he thought that he was closer, another wall formed right in front of his face.

 

He is growing impatient.

 

“Jaehyun?” Doyoung suddenly asks with a bold voice.

 

Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate to answer.  “Yes?”

 

“What was your life before coming here?”

 

“Sometimes it feels like I can’t remember,” Jaehyun says each word warily. “But then it comes back to me during those nights where it feels too closed in to be here.”

 

Doyoung makes a sound to signal that he is paying attention.

 

“It was your typical teenagers' life — school, homework, staying up late with friends,” Jaehyun’s voice wavers at the end of his sentence, so he coughs to regain his structure. His eyes find Doyoung’s again, and he gives him the same smile that he always does. “I had just gotten my college results back. Accepted into engineering, can you imagine that?”

 

Doyoung nods, because yes he can. He sees Jaehyun clutched over a thousand texts book in some cafè with a fuzzy scarf wrapped around his body to keep the cold away. He sees the way Jaehyun would dance in some frat party with people all around him ogling his beautiful body. He sees Jaehyun hanging out with friends at some local bar, laughing too loud about something that seems so important at that moment, but would eventually be forgotten by the sunrise.

 

He can see it so clearly, and god does it leave a terrible weight in his chest.

 

Doyoung wonders if it’s the first time since he came here where he gets to talk about his life before imprisonment. He rambles on about his high school experiences, his badly paying part-time job at an ice cream joint and his friend circle that had too much drama for their own good.

 

And Doyoung listens. He takes every word Jaehyun allows him to hear and saves it inside the treasure box he has created for Jaehyun only inside his heart. He listened to every single word, every single story with as much attentiveness as he can.

 

“Dude, my mom—“ and for the first time in the past hour, Jaehyun stops.

 

His face morphs into something unrecognizable. The softness Doyoung has grown to adore had been stolen away by a force that feels so stone cold. He stands up hastily and picks up his barely touched food. The broth of the noodles wobbles because of the sudden movements, making it spill out on the tray.

 

”Uh, sorry I—I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jaehyun bites out and leaves before Doyoung has time to wish him goodbye.

 

 

”Don’t walk away.”

 

The weather has gotten undeniably warmer. The hideous orange jumpsuit he has to wear sticks to his skin in a displeasing way due to the humidity. Doyoung has never been one to enjoy hot weather, which makes him all the more irritated at the way Jaehyun tries to vanish the second their eyes meet.

 

“I won’t,” Jaehyun defeatedly says, and leans against the brick wall next to Doyoung. Some of the inmates, mostly those that are just like Doyoung, has sought shelter underneath the small rooftop of the building to hide from the obnoxious rays of sunshine. The bricks offer a slight comfort due to the chilliness of the shadows, but it doesn’t compare to an AC.

 

“Why did you leave that day?” Doyoung pushes. Before he was an inmate, he had been a well-educated businessman — being determined lied in his blood.

 

“Because I accidentally overshared, I suppose. And when I realized, I just panicked.”

 

Doyoung raises his eyebrow and starts considering if he should push it further, but he doesn’t want to push his luck. He figures that if he shares his own story maybe Jaehyun will feel comfortable enough with him.

 

“I graduated business school two years early. My teachers pushed me to do two years worth of material in six months instead, because of my level of intellect,” he starts. It catches Jaehyun’s attention, so he continues on. “Companies left and right used to practically beg me to start working for them, but I never even opened the emails. I had a plan already, a plan I had dreamt about ever since I was born.”

 

“What was it?” Jaehyun asks curiously.

 

“I was born in a line of businessmen. My grandfather built a company which all of my relatives put their blood and sweat into, including myself. That’s all I ever wanted — fuck, that’s all that was allowed for me to want.”

 

Doyoung swallows down the lump in his throat. He knows his hands are starting to fidget in his lap, so he put his weight on them by sitting on top of them instead. “I spent years to make myself worthy of my place, you want to know how I got repaid?”

 

Jaehyun nods.

 

“I was an accountant. I have always been told that I have a stick up my ass because of the fact that I am so strict about my work. Suddenly, there are all these wrong numbers in the papers that I've never seen before. I check, and check and check again and it never adds up. I decided to bring it up with my brother, and he tells me to look the other way. I brought it up with my mother and she said the exact same thing.”

 

The frustration of reliving those moments claws inside his body. He tries to push it aside, for Jaehyun’s sake but it’s so difficult. Betrayal has never been easy for him, especially when it came in the form of his own family.

 

“I refused to let it go, so I started to investigate on my own. I found out that the company we — I worked so hard for had been built on nothing but lies. My father, brother and uncle had been gambling money in and out of the company for years. And it took one week's accidental slip up for me to catch it.”

 

Somewhere erupts a burst of loud laughter, which is a true juxtaposition to how Doyoung feels inside. He knows he is sweating excessively with the way his jumpsuit clings onto him like a second layer of skin. His hands shoot up to the zipper underneath his chin to drag it open, as a way to seek freedom.

 

“Of course I couldn’t keep quiet about it. I told them I knew about their wrongdoings and was gonna report them if they didn’t fix it. If I knew better, I would have known that nothing stands in the way of my family — even their own blood,” Doyoung closes his eyes and slumps against the brick wall. “They sued me for fraud, with evidence clear as fucking water. It took them a month to lock me up here.”

 

Doyoung hears a gasp coming from beside him, but he feels too shaken to open his eyes. A moment of hesitation lingers in the air before he feels safe enough to flutter his eyes open.

 

“Doyoung, I’m really sorry,” Jaehyun whispers. It feels to intimate with the way Jaehyun is looking at him, but Doyoung leans against the warmth of the situation anyway.

 

“It’s doesn’t matter anymore, especially now that I know what people here have done and gone through,” Doyoung honestly answers. The knowing look he gives Jaehyun seems like it reaches out to him. He hopes Jaehyun understands where his point lies.

 

“I’ll tell you,” Jaehyun leans over to put his palm on the curve of Doyoung’s exposed elbow. “I promise. Just give me time.”

 

If there’s anything Doyoung has, it’s time.

 

“Does Jaehyun have a boyfriend?”

 

There’s a big pile of sheets covering him from seeing Yuta’s reaction, but he bets it’s the same one he always has every time they mention Jaehyun; teasing. His suspicions get confirmed when Yuta’s head peeks through the other pile which he was currently working on.

 

‘’Now why would you ask that?’’ Yuta grins.

 

Doyoung finishes up folding the last sheet on his pile before returning his attention back to Yuta. ‘’Just answer the damn question, please.’’

 

‘’He doesn’t,’’ Yuta says with a wink. ‘’The door is right open, my guy.’’

 

Doyoung contemplates if he should bring up the bathroom incident, after all as far as he was concerned Yuta and Jaehyun were undoubtedly best friends, and best friends share these sort of things with each other —  don’t they?

 

‘’I know he is fucking someone though,’’ Doyoung says. He tries not to let the words sting his chest all too bad but the attempt goes avail.

 

‘’Doyoung, honey,’’ Yuta comes around the table to stand right beside him. He flops his body on top of the cramped table and lands on a short pile of dirty clothes. ‘’Everybody is fucking everybody in here, it never means anything.’’

 

‘’I can’t—’’ Doyoung ducks his head down in apparent embarrassment, ‘’I can’t bear the thought of him fucking anyone.’’

 

”Why not?” Yuta pushes. The glint in his eyes could make even the strongest man on earth curl up into himself.

 

”Fuck off, Nakamoto.”

 

”I told you before, whatever you decide to do, chances are it will go well,” Yuta finalizes before jumping off of the table.

 

 

Two months into prison, and so far so good. Well, as good as prison can truly be. He has yet to get into a fight, which there is unsurprisingly a bunch of every single day. Most people don’t even know his name, which he honestly views as a positive thing. He just hopes the rest of his sentence goes as smoothly.

 

But of course, that was just wishful thinking.

 

“ _Umph_ ,” Doyoung whimpers out as his back hits the brick wall. Small droplets of blood drizzle down his temple as his face get banged again and again against the harsh wall.

 

He closes his eyes and lets himself get slammed into the wall. The person above him, he has no idea what his name is, continues on rambling up every degrading curse word his brain could possibly come up with. His hand that is placed above Doyoung’s ear increase with pressure for each slam.

 

“Are you done?” Doyoung spits out the tiny bit of blood that has made its way into his mouth. Before the broader man could answer, he grabs a hold of his wrist and switches up their positions. He manages to get two good punches on his gut before he is being dragged out by two stronger arms away from the scene.

 

“Let go of me,” Doyoung screams as he is being pulled into some unknown direction. His hands fly around to try to get him loose, but the grip on him is too tight.

 

“Shut up, you are creating a fucking scene.”

 

“I fucking had him,” Doyoung fumbles forward as the hands around him finally go slack. He turns around in an instance and feels his nostrils flare the second his eyes meet Jaehyun’s.

 

“Who cares, this is jail, Doyoung,” Jaehyun says pointedly, “One wrong move and it could fucking end you.”

 

Doyoung shoves Jaehyun again, out of anger more than anything. His hands shake as he punches his chest again, and again.

 

The rational part of his brain knows that Jaehyun doesn’t deserve this treatment. He has done nothing wrong except being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Doyoung cannot contain himself. The feelings he has shoved back at the end of his brain burst out with a bubbling intensity, engulfing ever part of him that screamed at him to stop.

 

Jaehyun doesn’t budge from his place. He accepts every shove and punches with a rock hard chest until Doyoung’s hands feel too tired to even move. Exhaustion washes over him all of a sudden, and it’s only then he realizes that he has wet tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

 

“I’m fucking tired of this shit,” Doyoung shakingly says. He doesn’t know exactly what he is trying to highlight with his statement, but he knows Jaehyun gets him, he always does.

 

“Hey,” Jaehyun takes a hesitant step forward and when Doyoung doesn’t move, he takes another one. “Everything will be okay, Doyoung. I promise you.”

 

Doyoung can’t control the snort that leaves through his nose. “Is that what you tell all your whores before you come fucking them in the bathrooms?”

 

The glint in Jaehyun’s eyes shifts so drastically and at that moment Doyoung apprehends that he shouldn’t have said what he did. The look in his eyes is in the edge of being frightening, but Doyoung doesn’t back down. It was now or never.

 

“It was you that time, wasn’t it?” Jaehyun asks.

 

For minutes they just stand there, in a vacant bathroom with their heavy breathing echoing against the wall. Their eyes never leave each other, almost as a challenge of whom of them will break first.

 

“You got off hearing me fuck someone, didn’t you?” Jaehyun continues.

 

Doyoung could answer him, but why would he do that when he could just show him instead?

 

Before coming here, Doyoung was never the one to particular reach out to cuss words. He often found them as rather unprofessional and a sign of lack of vocabulary but the second his lips meet Jaehyun’s, the only word that comes to mind is _Holy Fucking Shit_.

 

Jaehyun’s lips shouldn’t be as soft as they are, especially since their kiss was nowhere near that sort of delicacy, but that was just who Jaehyun was. His lips almost remind Doyoung’s just how truly twisted this whole situation was, but god does he love it.

 

Things evolve undoubtedly quick. Their eager hands get rid of each other’s jumpsuits in less than a heartbeat. Now that there’s nothing between them, Doyoung can’t seem to get enough of Jaehyun’s body.

 

He traces every curve and dip of it — from his hard chest all the way down to him silky smooth thighs. He lifts him up with a bit of struggle and places him on one of the sinks.

 

For the most part, Jaehyun is quiet. A whimper here and another one there is all that Doyoung manages to get out of him, and that just won’t do. He feels hungry for it, yearning to have the surreal man in front of him come apart underneath his fingers.

 

Doyoung’s fingers trace his spotless thighs until he finally starts pumping Jaehyun’s semi-hard erection into life. The action causes Jaehyun to finally let out a breathy noise that shoots straight to Doyoung’s dick.

 

“Doyoung, _please_ ,” Jaehyun mumbles. His hands thread against Doyoung's crow black locks in desperation.

 

The blood around his temple is making him feel slightly uncomfortable, and the sweat that has started to form on the outer layer of his skin isn’t helping either. He grabs a paper towel from behind Jaehyun to wipe it away, not bothering with questioning the sanitary factor of his actions.

 

He brings Jaehyun’s lips back against him. It was starting to become sort of an addiction to him, a lethal one at that. Jaehyun drags his bottom lip between his own lips and bites into him slightly,  before sucking on it. He repeats the motion a couple of times, ere he hooks his lips on the bottom part of Doyoung’s neck, right where his neck meets his collarbone.

 

Doyoung flicks his wrist, which makes Jaehyun pull away from his place against Doyoung’s neck. His eyes shoot directly at Doyoung’s and a sinful moan slips out of his lips.

 

His breathing turns erratic, and right when Jaehyun moans out a warning about him cumming, Doyoung pulls away completely.

 

“ _Oh no_ , oh no please—,” Jaehyun cries out and tries to reach out to Doyoung with his hands. Doyoung however, just takes around step back and feels satisfied due to the sight.

 

Jaehyun’s dick lies thick and heavy against his stomach, and it looks borderline painful. It has become a dark shade of red, which is a contrast against his otherwise pale figure.

 

He decides to save this exact picture for later.

 

“Turn around,” Doyoung demands.

 

Jaehyun jumps off the sink and turns around right away. He places his palms against the cold metal and arches his back the slightest to presumably give Doyoung a better look at his body.

 

It works.

 

“You are so beautiful, Jaehyun,” Doyoung mutters, mostly to himself as his hands massage the curve of his spine. Jaehyun’s skin feels electric against him, and now Doyoung might have never been the one to overly poeticize humans, but Jaehyun really makes it hard for Doyoung not to spill out a poem just about the way his skin looks under the illuminating lights.

 

For a second, he wishes he had the time and the proper equipment to fully prep Jaehyun. To explore every part of him, but that was just not possible so instead, he spits on his own palm and coats his fingers as well as he can in the sticky residue.

 

Doyoung’s lips attach themselves to Jaehyun’s exposed shoulder as his index finger slowly thrusts into his exposed hole. His eyes shoot to the mirror in front of them to find any signs of discomfort, but Jaehyun looks blissed out.

 

Only when Doyoung is met with minimal resistance does he add on another finger. He tries to distract Jaehyun by kissing on every sliver of skin his lips can reach, but the loud whine that escapes Jaehyun is proof enough that his distraction wasn’t as effective as he had hoped.

 

Jaehyun starts to eventually rock his hips in the same rhythm as Doyoung’s thrusts when the discomfort evaporates. His movements are slow, but they push Doyoung to thrust his fingers with more force. The newfound intensity makes Doyoung brush against Jaehyun’s prostate again and again.

 

Thanks to the mirror in front of them, Doyoung gets a clear view of Jaehyun’s blissed-out face. He sees the way the sweat forms in his forehead, making his hair stick against it. His lips are buried deep in his bottom lip. There’s a white cast around it, indicating just how hard Jaehyun was biting down to try to muffle the sounds that threaten to escape his body.

 

“Fuck me, Doyoung. I’m ready.”

 

Doyoung doesn’t have to be told twice as he sloppily coats his dick in his spit before pushing into Jaehyun’s heat. The stretch makes it difficult for him to go past the rim, so he whispers in Jaehyun’s ear sweet nothings to try to make him relax. It's almost painful the way he has to force himself to stand still and not to start pounding into him restlessly.  ''Fuck me, Doyoung,'' Jaehyun repeats, and Doyoung slams into him.

 

His pace is too clumsy for what he is usually used to, but he is too gone to give a shit. He channels all his pent up frustration and anger into fucking Jaehyun with long and hard strokes. Each time he rams into him, a lewd moan follows suit from either Jaehyun or Doyoung, he cannot really tell.

 

The thought of someone walking into them the same way Doyoung has done that day is enough to drive Doyoung mad. His hands grab Jaehyun's hips with force to steady him. He tries to keep his eyes locked with Jaehyun's glossy ones through the mirror. His left hand squeezes Jaehyun's flushed asscheek before he lifts his hands up and lays an echoing smack against it.

 

''Ever since I,'' _smack_ , ''Heard you that day,'' _smack_ , ''I couldn't get the thought of fucking you out of my mind.'' _smack_.

 

The spanking pushes Jaehyun to the edge, with tears streaming down his eyes and broken whines spilling out of his lips. His hands give in under him, making him fall face down on the metal counter. Doyoung knows Jaehyun is close by the way his thighs shake against him, which only leads Doyoung to further thrust into him with even more intensity.

 

''Fuck, fuck, fuck,'' Jaehyun shrikes and comes hot and heavy on the floor below them.

 

Seeing the way Jaehyun trembles under him is enough to burst the all-too-familiar gut feeling inside his stomach. He manages to barely pull out before he climaxes against the dip of Jaehyun's back.

 

For a while, it's just their heavy breathing that makes the room seem alive. Doyoung still can't focus on coming down to on earth, but he knows that the can't stay gone too long.

 

''Jaehyun,'' he says, voice barely audible. ''We need to get going.''

 

Jaehyun' eyes are still closed, but he hums in response. Despite that, there's a touch of a smile on his lips.

 

Doyoung reaches over to the paper towels and wets it by opening the faucet next to Jaehyun's body. He wipes Jaehyun's back clean with carefulness before placing a chaste kiss on his temple. The action seems to bring Jaehyun come back to consciousness.

 

''Thank you,'' he whispers against Doyoung's lips before bringing him into another kiss. This one is different from the rest, it's gentle. Doyoung's heart pause against his chest due to the passion of it.

 

''For what?''

 

''For understanding,' Jaehyun says almost as if he was asking a question. ''For staying close,'' the last part sounds more like a statement.

 

Doyoung kisses him, deeply. He wants to tell Jaehyun just how much the thought of him makes him feel grounded in this surreal place, but he can't. He doesn't know what he has done nor has he solved one of the many mysteries surrounding him, but for now — this was enough.

 

 

It happens three days after they got together. ''I think I'm ready now.''

 

They are slouching by the walls to the janitors building. Most people don't go there since the smell of freshly cut grass grosses them out and there was the smallest amount of shade there, but Jaehyun liked it.

 

''What?'' Doyoung asks, hands busy tracing the small freckles on Jaehyun's forearm.

 

''I was nineteen,'' Jaehyun begins. Doyoung darts his eyes to Jaehyun's immediately,  and he knows by the look in them that Jaehyun trusts him enough. ''My mom was married to this man from her company. I never liked him, he seemed sort of shady, you know?''

 

Doyoung says a short yeah.

 

''They started fighting a lot suddenly. Nights in and out all I could hear was their screams and shouts,'' Jaehyun's eyebrows furrow. Doyoung intertwines their fingers together. ''It was about the most useless stuff too. Then one day I heard him say that he had a gun, and he wasn't scared of using it.''

 

Jaehyun takes a deep breath. A basketball comes their way, followed by one of the inmates Doyoung recognizes from the cell next door. He shoots them a quick greeting before returning back to the basketball court where most of the inmates are gathered around.

 

''I don't know what came over me, but I found myself in the hallway with him below me. I punched whatever my hands reached until his face was more blood than actual skin. I was _so fucking mad_ , I couldn't stop,'' Jaehyun's hands shake against Doyoung's. His eyes close, and he leans away from his body, but Doyoung pulls him even closer to the point where Jaehyun is almost sitting on his lap.

 

''I didn't mean to do it, but he slipped out of my hands. The last thing I know is that his body is at the bottom of the stairs, covered in blood and lifeless.''

 

Small tears burst through his cloudy eyes, and all Doyoung can do is hold his trembling body tight and rock him back and forward silently. He feels the way his hands clutch at his jumpsuit as the pain becomes overbearing. The tears soak his jumpsuit, and the patch only grows larger and larger as time goes on.

 

Eventually, Jaehyun collapses against him with silent weeps. There is still no words exchanged between them, only Jaehyun's occasional hiccups. Doyoung focuses on the sound of his breathing against his neck. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine Jaehyun in the scenario he had just painted for him, but he can't. 

 

He knows that Jaehyun did what he had to do. He knows that what he did was in order to save his mother, and that's all that matters. He tells him as much as well. 

 

Doyoung has a year and eight months left of his sentence, which seems like an eternity — but not anymore when he knows that he has a goal. He has more than enough money to hire a lawyer. He can make sure that his lawyer is able to reopen Jaehyun’s case and find some loophole. Anything to get Jaehyun out of here because he doesn't belong here. 

 

Jaehyun belongs where the sky is endless. He belongs where the moonlight and the sunshine aren't something out of reach. He belongs where the grass is green and the fields feel larger than the universe itself. He deserves to lay around the same flowers that remind Doyoung of him. 

 

''I'm gonna get you out of here.'' 

 

[Bonus] 

 

''Doyoung?'' 

 

Doyoung stirs awake when the heavy covers get pulled off from above him. He squints at the sudden brightness but smiles when his vision becomes clear. He leans up to try to steal a kiss but two hands push him down into the comfort of his bed anyway. ''Good morning,'' he says, voice raspy. 

 

''Doyoung, I've been accepted into college.'' 

 

**Author's Note:**

> well.. *winky face* this was supposed to be a short 2k smut fic only 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this, and as always - feedback is so appreciated. ily. 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyuckyan) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckyang)


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